This much tougher version of Santa's main role included not doling out gifts, but testing children on their memory of Bible verses, with a switch tucked in his belt, to be used on those who were unable to come up with any verses.

Reet Hiiemäe, folklorist and senior researcher at the Estonian Literary Museum (Eesti Kirjandusmuuseum), called it striking how certain figures and archetypes get so dominant over time that they become practically a given, yet that has not always been the case.

"If we take a look back in history even to just about a hundred years, it was by no means so self-evident or customary that Santa Claus could step in through the door," Hiiemäe said, speaking to Vikerraadio show "Kust nad tulevad?"

In Hiiemäe's assessment, the turning point came at the start of the last century, when the figures resembling the modern Santa Claus (Estonian: Jõuluvana) archetype arrived in Estonia, primarily from within the Germanic cultural sphere.

As with traditions more generally, this process did not happen overnight. "People in Estonia already had all sorts of figures before, so Santa Claus also developed from that basis," she noted.

One of Hiiemäe's favorite Christmas-time tradition texts comes from the small island Ruhnu. It was first documented in 1924, just over a century ago, and describes how straw was brought into the room at Christmas time – a custom that was also very common in earlier times.

"At the same time, Santa Claus was also in the room and the children watch what he does. But this Santa was certainly not wearing a red robe, rather a white sheepskin coat and looked more like a soul-beggar or a Martinmas mummer," Hiiemäe said. The text related how Santa Claus would grab a bundle of straw, with the intention of taking it with him. The children, however, are required run at him and snatch the straw back, as if Santa were to slip away with it, Christmas would end too quickly.

"So it was as if the length of Christmas altogether, how long you could enjoy eating Christmas fare, depended on Santa Claus," the folklorist noted At the same time, the tradition also mentions another figure, the Christmas goose, whose role was to scare children In Hiiemäe's view, interaction with Santa Claus was characterized by reciprocity – the giving must be balanced. "For Santa Claus to feel the need to give you something, you also have to offer him something in return. Be it a snippet of wisdom you have acquired through literacy, or a poem, this was not a one-sided thing," she said.

According to Hiiemäe, what is also interesting is how much impetus popular culture can bring to beliefs. In the case of the modern-day Santa, a clear link has been made with his clothing color scheme and that of a rather famous U.S.-made soft drink. As early as the 1920s, Coca-Cola began depicting Santa Claus in a red coat in its advertisements.

It was precisely through this channel that such an appearance also spread more widely to Estonia. "If we look at descriptions collected from the beginning of the 20th century, what predominates is certainly that Santa Claus wore a white coat, his beard could be a tuft of flax fibers, and he held a switch," she noted.

That soon changed. Towards the end of the interwar period, when Estonia was an independent republic, the famed Disney animation "Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs" reached the screen. This strongly influenced how Santa's elfin helpers (Estonian: Päkapikk) are depicted today. "They tend to be cute, small and friendly, while Santa Claus is the one who actually brings the gifts," Hiiemäe said.

As noted in the older traditions, Santa Claus was an altogether scarier character. "He demanded that children know their Bible verses. If they did not, then the switch on his belt could actually be pressed into use," she added.

In Estonian traditions, these elves have several forebears. One example is the underground folk abundantly described in fairy tales. These subterranean dwellers sometimes made their presence known by ticking or making other sounds.

"If a person happens, rather foolishly, to build a house in an unsuitable place, the underground folk may start appearing and complaining that now the slurry from your barn is raining into their soup pot," Hiiemäe said.

The folklorist also sees parallels with gnomes with bull-like legs found in Germanic folklore, often depicted as living under the mountains, where they oversee precious metals and other mineral resources. Since Estonia does not have mountains with precious resources under them but does have dense forests, this necessitated a certain amount of tweaking of the formula.

"I find it very fascinating how in one Estonian traditional text elves are instead referred to as the sons of forest spirits. For us, the forest is an ordinary ecosystem," she noted. Christmas time in Estonian folk belief has above all been a joyful and social time, Hiiemäe said; a time for being together and eating and drinking well.

Given its northerly location, the winter solstice, dark everywhere, is particularly dark, and therefore somewhat dangerous, in Estonia. "All kinds of forces are on the move then. Much depends on a person's actions – whether they utilize the right protective rituals and generally act correctly, to support successful coping in the coming year," the folklorist explained. For instance, if an individual were to stray off the path or end up in places where they should not be poking their noses around, things can have a bad ending, she said.

Christmas time also had its own specific taboos. For example, it was not considered appropriate to rush off visiting on the first day of Christmas "That was a quiet day. It was not meant to be a party, with round-the-clock revelry," Hiiemäe said.

These issues continued into New Year. Attention was also paid to a visitor's gender: If a female visitor came on the first day of the new year, for instance, this could "weaken" things somehow. "For this reason male visitors were preferred on the first day of the new year," she added.

Also, according to Hiiemäe, communication with and commemoration of the dead was a very Estonian phenomenon throughout this time of year, starting with All Souls back at the end of October and running into the start of the new year.
"There are several moving tradition recordings about this. For example, on New Year's Eve the family themselves went to sleep on straw on the floor, so that the little souls of loved ones could lie down in the beds and feel like welcome guests," she described.

However, two kinds of deceased were distinguished. One's own close ones, the so-called "good dead," were welcome and were perceived as protectors and guides on life's path. At the same time, a long dead "revenant" was a thing to be feared, as they were considered representatives of the demonic realm.

Protective measures were also used against these most unwelcome guests, for example by making the sign of the cross. While associated with the Christian cultural sphere, crossing oneself, erecting crosses or painting them on walls has a much older meaning, connected with a neutralizing symbology. "When you are fleeing from a frightening being and reach a crossroads, then perhaps you will no longer go astray, but know which branch of the road to continue along," she added. Signs of the cross were made on Christmas night and at New Year on dwellings, barns, and especially on those places through which entry was possible – the doors, windows and openings.

Another Christmas and New Year tradition was to not clear the table away. "The souls are a little shy – when people have finished their activities, they can come forward and partake of the festive dish," Hiiemäe said of this.

--

Follow ERR News on Facebook and X and never miss an update!